Shork woke up in the most unusual of surroundings. He seemed to be in a cave, the walls rich with minerals & the floor... well, the floor was soaked in blood.
'Urrgghh...'
After adjusting his eyes to the dark underground space lit only by a small pine fire, he saw the splattered corpse of an elk, its contents leaking out onto the hard stone. The carcass looked neither cooked or consumed in a fashion that would suggest restraint, so Shork was guessing this was his own work.
At least he would be leaving on a full stomach.
Once dressed the Orc started to make his way down a narrow, uneven passageway, repeatedly having to duck to avoid bruising his skull, which felt as it always did after a night of hunting & -Shork sniffed his miners clothes- drinking? Oh dear. A scouring of his backpack confirmed Shork's suspiscions; he was out of drink. Almost instinctively Shork upped his pace from cautious exploration to frantic hybrid of sprinting & galloping towards any exit. With the prospect of soberity looming, little else was on the Orc's mind until he reached the surface.
It was when in fact he reached the surface that his panic for liquor subsided, only to be replaced by fear of the unknown. Apparently Soberity was further off than he had initially thought.
Not far from Shork's standing point outside of his den lay the city of Whiterun. As his eyes took in the scaling battlements of the fortress city, his mind tried to piece the image with his intentions.
I came to Skyrim, to Whiterun,too... I was here to... too...
He gave up & gave in to his drunken urges.
I came to drink.
***
After cleaning himself off the best he could so that he would look presentable to public eye, Shork made his way to the cities entrance, trying to appear oblivious to the unmasked guards stares & covering of noses. Hoping he did not smell as bad as these guards reactions suggested, he was surprised to only be stopped by one, plucky young guard.
'You smell like a wet animal' the young Nord asked courageously.
Shork decided not to respond, but as he tried to pass the short figure he found his path blocked again.
'Hey' the youth smirked, feigning authority, 'You think i'm gonna let you walk in, smelling like tha-'
He was cut off by a low growling noise emmiting from the back of Shork's hroat, yet bravely stood his ground despite the firm warning to back off. Shork didnt know how far conventional public appearance would keep him peaceful in his semi-sober state.
So the fleshy, uncleaned teeth came out. The guard faltered, eeither out of fear or disgust of th sickening display, & quietly allowed Shork to pass, his head kept down until his threatener was through the city gates.
Fortunatly Shork was spared of any further scenes by the sheer size of the city. The guards seemingly had their work cut out as it was. Gripping his ears slightly as noise from one particularily noisy house on the right side of the street punctured his woozy brain, Shork made haste towards a well lit inn at the end of the road, having seen no better accomadations along the way. As he shakingly pushed the bar door open, a bard seemingly began drumming to an unfamiliar yet annoying melody, causing his movement to the bar to resemble a stagger.
Fortunatly the barmaid seemed to sympathise with his aches, & after serving a shadowy Khajjit women she brought over a fresh pint of ale.
'Havent seen one of your kin in a while' she added in a friendly tone whilst he downed the ale. He found the taste of his newfound beverage to be strong yet soothing, & had ordered several pints before realizing he might not be able to pay for them.
As the alcohol entered his system & drugged his senses, his mind finally began to decipher his actions; there was an offering... some drunken guy... a threat to all the land? Initially this had sounded like a call for rounding up mercenaries, but on deeper thought he realized his situation could be a fluke. & after three pints of frothy ale, this was not the conclusion he wanted. Which made Shork angry.
Which subsequently meant when the impish bard he'd heard drearing on earlier tapped him on the shoulder, told him to slow down, that the Nord stuff was strong, Shork turned round & slammed his knuckled fist into the mans face, causing his nose to erupt with blood & his feet to buckle.
'Could 'ave fooled me' he jeered at the unconscious bard, as his Friends jumped to his defense, & what was to be a very one-sided brawl broke out.